Untitled Document

Title: Redemption
Author: Banshae, 2001
Rating: R (violence, implied rape, cussing)
Disclaimer: You know and I know that I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them for my own little passion plays. However, I DO own the original characters and places, so no snurching!
Spoilers: All of seasons 1 & 2, pretty much all of season three, up to IP: Icarus Abides
Archiving: You actually want this?! Just let me know: morgayne@hotmail.com, so I can jump up and down and do a happy dance.
Summary: Takes place after IP: Dadelus Demands. Talyn's crew stops off at a commerce planet and Aeryn turns up missing.
Special thanks to Felix, who argued with me and encouraged me and gave me great ideas. This fic wouldn't have been the same without him.

Redemption: Part 3

Settling back into the cushions of the plush booth, Bialar scanned the other occupants of the Drist Vawn. It was an upscale establishment compared to the others he'd visited; the customers were mostly well-to-do freighter captains and merchantmen, with the occasional civilized smuggler thrown in. The help was properly respectful of privacy, and the presence of two large A'Tesh mercenaries at the door ensured that only those with the correct connections were allowed to do their business here.

He had ended up at the Drist Vawn after four days of carefully asked questions and information gathering. Rygel had also been haunting the market, and for once the Hynerian willingly cooperated by sharing what he'd learned. After comparing information, they'd reluctantly concluded that Aeryn had been taken by flesh peddlers or slave traders.

Acting on that assumpation, Bialar adopted the persona of a wealthy trader looking for a bodymate. Flashing credits and the right attitude, he'd given the barkeep at the Drist Vawn his requirements. The keep had assured him, "Rissiin has what you be looking for, gentle-being."

Bialar wasn't so sure. He'd been sitting here, waiting for "Rissiin" to appear, for three arns already. Three more arns to add to the sixty-four Aeryn had been missing. Every passing microt lessened their chances of finding her, but he couldn't afford to make the wrong move now: he had to remain patient.

He believed Aeryn had the training and will to cope with whatever situation she was in. If she was being kept by slavers, they would not risk losing a profit by killing her. And as long as she was alive, Bialar would not give up hope of finding her.

He was driven not only by his ingrained Peacekeeper's concern for a lost comrade, but also the sense he'd failed her as a friend. Hoping it would snap her from her benumbed state, he'd asked her to go to the planet even though he knew how emotionally fragile she was. It was his mistake of judgment that put her in danger, and he felt deeply responsible for her abduction.

John's death had wounded Aeryn in a way Bialar fully understood: his own brother's death had driven him mad with grief and rage. As a Peacekeeper, he had no other outlet for his pain but obsession and revenge. He had only begun healing from the madness when he bonded with Talyn and felt the Leviathan's unconditional acceptance, so like the love he'd felt for Tauvo. But Aeryn had no such bond to offer her respite from her emotional pain.

He should have known from his own experience that simply giving her something to do would not make her forget her grief. He'd acted like a typical Peacekeeper: ignore your emotions and get on with the job. Keep moving, keep fighting, keep killing and you won't feel the void within. Frell. Neither of us are typical Peacekeepers any more. I should have known better.

Restraining himself from approaching the barkeep again, Bialar took another sip of the native liquor. Eventually, a shape rose from the shadows of a booth across the room and approached. Most likely been sitting there for arns already, watching me, he thought as the native approached.

"Greetings, gentle-being. I be Rissiin. You be Cra'is?"

"I am." Bialar motioned for the other to sit, and activated the soundshield around the booth. He looked Rissiin over coolly, "You know what I'm looking for?"

The native smiled, "What you be wanting, sir Cra'is, it be expensive."

Bialar dropped two dret-credits on the table, "Give me the right answer and this is yours."

Rissiin's eyes shifted to the credits. He made his living brokering information to those who would pay for it, and the amount Cra'is had put down was not especially large. For a moment he considered asking for more, but a glance at Cra'is' face cautioned him against it. The off-worlder was watching him with deadly interest--better to take the credits and give him what he wanted. The amount would still make a tidy profit.

"I have been a long time in the Uncharteds," Bialar said pointedly.

The native gave him a sympathetic look, "You be asking after 'entertainment', yes?"

"I'm tired of theexotic. I'm looking for one of my own kind for such 'entertainment'," Bialar smirked. I have credits to spend and I'm choosey. Point me to the right trelk-house you fool.

Rissiin drew a breath through his teeth and put a paw-like hand up to scratch at his chin, thinking. "Sir Cra'is, I be not knowing of any females meeting your requirements in the local pleasure houses-" he held up a hand to forestall Bialar's displeasure, "-however, I be suggesting you be trying with Saar Kelhvek."

"And where would I contact this Saar?"

"Sir, that be a small problem. The Saar be owner of a freighter ship. He be putting her into orbit round each planet in this system for two, three weekens and then off he be to another planet." Rissiin grinned, "He say it be keeping the clients guessing."

"Where would his ship be now?" Bialar kept his voice neutral even as his mind was turning over the information. A ship would be easier to overtake with their limited numbers. If they were very lucky, this Kelhvek would be as cowardly as the rest of his kind and capitulate by handing Aeryn over once they threatened him with Talyn's superior firepower.

"Oh, that be easy, sir Cra'is! I be giving you the right coordinates and you be meeting Saar Kelhvek quick enough. Then you be happy, yes?" Rissiin reached into his cloak and produced a small datacube which he handed across the table.

Bialar took it and pushed the dret-credits to Rissiin. They disappeared neatly into his cloak as he stood, "Pleasant to be doing commerce with you, sir Cra'is. You be coming back to Drist Vawn soon, yes?" He bowed and faded into the darkness beyond the soundshield.

Putting the datacube into a pocket, Bialar forced himself to finish the drink. It wouldn't do to look too eager. Eventually he felt it was safe to settle his account and leave the bar. He headed toward the transport, moving quickly through the crowded streets and watching carefully for unwanted followers.

Either the scowl on his face or the casually worn pulse rifle discouraged trouble, because he arrived at the transport without incident. As he began pre-flight checks and powered up the engines, he contacted Talyn mentally and was reassured that all was well: Rygel and Stark were aboard, and the required repairs had been accomplished.

Bialar commed the others as he guided the transport out of the atmosphere and toward Talyn, "Stark, Rygel, I have the information we needed. We shall be leaving the planet as soon as I dock--" he broke off as Talyn suddenly flooded their bond with images and emotions. For a microt, he couldn't understand what the Leviathan was trying to tell him, then it all came together:

Moya comes!

********

"Three months, two weeks, five days" John murmured.

"What'd you say, old man?" Chiana glanced away from the image of Talyn on the screen.

John shook his head, realizing he was thinking out loud. "Nothing, Pip. I just figured out how long it's been since we've seen them."

"Three and a half monens, give or take a couple of days," D'Argo said, putting a hand on John's shoulder, "Steady, friend."

"Damn, is it that obvious?"

"Yes!" Jool and Chiana replied simultaneously.

"Thanks ladiesyou're making me feel so much better," John shrugged off D'Argo's hand and moved closer to the screen. His emotions were in such turmoil, he didn't know whether to throw up or dance a jig. It had been a long time since he'd seen Aeryn and now she was backbut so was the Other. Christ, something like this could only happen to me! No one else in this damn universe could get cloned and then have their clone steal the woman they love.

He was intensely jealous ofwhatever had gone on between the Other and Aeryn, but at the same time he wanted to see her so badly it hurt. The twelve arns since they'd discovered Tayln's whereabouts felt like a year.

"Pilot, are we close enough to get a signal through without worrying about nosy listeners?" Chiana asked.

"That will be the case in twenty microts." Pilot replied. They all fell silent, watching as Talyn approached.

John counted under his breath and as soon as he hit twenty, called out, "Pilot, can you open a channel?"

"Of course, Commander Crichton." The screen flickered and then showed Crais, alone on Talyn's command.

"Hey, big boy, howya doin?" John could feel a huge grin splitting across his face, which faded when Crais remained the solitary image on the screen. "UhNo offense Crais, happy to see you and all, but where's Aeryn?" John asked.

"And everyone else?" Chiana put in.

"I suggest you answer quickly, Crais," D'Argo snarled.

"Some things haveAs I'm sure they have aboard Moya-"

Suddenly, John didn't like the look in Crais' eyes. It was a look with "bad news" written all over it. "Cut the crap, where the hell is Aeryn?"

"That is what I am trying to tell you, Crichton," Crais looked away briefly and in that moment a hundred scenarios ran through John's head-all of involving Aeryn and the Other, and all of them bad. Then the ex-Peacekeeper spoke, "There is more to it, and I will take a transport to Moya to speak to you all in person-"

Omigawd she's gone off to some planet with Him to have kids-they ran into trouble somewhere and they're both dead-Aeryn's dead-Aeryn's pregnant-She and Crais--

"-but this you must know: Aeryn has been abducted."

I think I'm going to be sick. John thought weakly.

TBC...